


The Night After Halloween

by Fr0st6yte



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, F/M, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Marauders, Marauders' Era, Remus Lupin Needs a Hug, Sirius Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 13:51:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8448529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fr0st6yte/pseuds/Fr0st6yte
Summary: Halloween has come and gone, and the news had gotten to the everyone's ears.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title: The Night After Halloween  
> Author: Fr0st6yte (RoboTitaness)  
> Fandom: Harry Potter  
> Characters: James Potter, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew  
> Genre: Angst, Friendship  
> Summary: Halloween has come and gone, and the news had gotten to the everyone's ears.

Sirius raced forward, staring, horrified at the ruins. His thoughts flew by, a kilometer a minute.  _Why was there a Dark Mark why was it so quiet where was James **why was the roof caved in**?_  He thundered past the fence, up the steps, into the house, barely noting the empty hinges. For all his anger and energy, he froze once he got in, staring, transfixed, at the hand poking slightly out of the doorway of the kitchen.

He stumbled forward, his mind denying what his eyes were seeing, what the pain in his chest was confirming. It was not James laying there, limbs flung all over the place, his brown skin pale, glasses askew on his face. His hazel eyes - Sirius remembered them always sparkling, always inviting, always alive - were clouded, unseeing. Sirius sank to his knees, reaching a hand over to touch his brother’s face. 

“Prongs, get up. Nice joke, okay. You win, mate. Now get up.” He grabbed the dead heavy arms and shook them. “Not funny anymore, mate. Up, now.” He continued shoving them, not noticing that he was shaking himself. “Merlin, Potter! Get up now! Damn it!” He finally shouted, flinging the arms away from him, sliding back. He shook, staring at the limp, dead body. He reached over, smoothing down the black hair, holding in a sob as he remembered that he’d never see James try and tame it. Never see him smirk, and laugh, and wave his wand to play yet another prank to annoy Moony and Evans. Never see him flying on a broomstick, with Harry in his -

Harry! Sirius jumped up, sending one last look at his friend, and thundered up the stairs. His godson’s cries echoed around the otherwise silent house, only quieting when Sirius reached the nursery. He again stopped, holding back another sob at Lily’s prone figure. Only Harry’s sniffles got him moving towards the crib, the only piece of furniture still standing, unbroken. He swept the baby up, only half noticing the strangely shaped scar on his forehead. He clutched Harry to his chest, trying to simultaneously comfort him and seeking comfort himself. 

Only after Hagrid ran in, gasping and trembling himself, did Sirius relinquish his hold on Harry, allowing the half-giant to take the boy to Lily’s oaf of relations. He wanted to protest, wanted to argue that Dumbledore did not know everything, wanted to yell that it was his godson, god damn it and he should be Harry’s guardians. 

But he knew the time for arguing was later. Right then, he set out of the house with a single mind. He had a rat to hunt.

* * *

_I had to get away_. Peter ran, trembling.  _It’s all over._  He reached Diagon Alley and slowed down, trying to fit into the crowd. He smiled as other witches and wizards greeted him cheerfully, all celebrating the end of a cold, horror-stricken era. Peter didn’t know what he felt, but it sure wasn’t elation. Fear, that was a definite. He-who-must-not-be-named had fallen, the Death Eaters scattered, confused, and Peter alone. Sirius was sure to be on his tale, and Peter had to  _go_.

A shop’s window caught his eyes as he hurried, and the broomstick glittered in its case. Peter swallowed, ignoring the memories that threatened to flood him. He picked up his pace, keeping his eyes away from all the shops.

 _It wasn’t supposed to be this way,_  he thought.  _We were supposed to be victorious, the war over with the Dark Lord winning and safety!_  He scurried out of the wizarding community, through the Leaky Cauldron, and into Muggle London. He hunched down, hoping to blend into the crowd. He remembered Remus talking about his Muggle mother, and hoped his recollection was sound with his clothes. He had to hide, get out of England so Sirius couldn’t catch him. 

 _No magic,_  he thought.  _At least until I’m out of England._  He knew Sirius had Auror’s resources at his disposal, and couldn’t shoot down the wave of fear that washed over him. He looked around, looking for somewhere to transform. A specific rat in England would be impossible to find, even for Padfoot. He only hoped his old friend wouldn’t find magical trace he’d leave behind for a while. 

His eyes lit upon a dark alley, branching from a small side road behind an old bookstore. He nearly fell in relief, and walked towards it, ready to disappear. 

“Pettigrew!” The name echoed around the small road, and all but one man turned to the bellower. Peter felt all relief vanish, replaced with a cold, numbing terrified feeling. 

* * *

Sirius stared at  ~~his friend~~  the traitor in front of him. He lunged for him, burning hot anger flowing through his mind, clouding all judgement. He reached for his wand, ignoring all the Muggles around him. He only cared for one thing - killing Pettigrew. Killing the man who killed his brother and family.

* * *

Another man, miles away from this confrontation, hours away from getting the world-destroying news that would alter his whole future, is waking up, surrounded by other of his kind, wondering when he’d get to go back home to his family and why there was a dull ache in his chest.

* * *

Peter jumped back as Sirius jumped at him, and quickly brought out his own wand. Though never known, he wasn’t just a tagalong to the group of Marauders. He could lie his way out of any situation, saving them from many detentions. And that trait wasn’t going to fail him now. 

“How could you, Sirius?” He shouted, making sure his voice carried. 

* * *

“Lily and James, Sirius! How could you betray them?” Sirius snapped his eyes to the person shouting, screaming those accusations, and he couldn’t stop himself. 

* * *

Peter stared as Sirius laughed. Head thrown back, black hair splattered around his face, Sirius Black laughed as Peter hurled lie after lie at him. For a minute he felt worried, thinking that he’d miss something but he quickly glanced around and saw no other Aurors. Deciding that Sirius had finally cracked, and seeing the wand rising in the Auror’s hand, Peter made a split-second decision that would decide the course of the next sixteen years. 

* * *

Sirius laughed, even as he brought his wand up to blast the traitor to pieces. The next few seconds were a whirlwind, with a huge explosion that knocked Sirius back, against a building, with screams, and shouts, and horrified realization. 

When his vision cleared, he saw what he had come to dread. The street was littered with bodies, rubble surrounding all of them. There were people coming, he realized, as he dragged himself to his feet. And he had to get moving. But he couldn’t. Because Peter. Wasn’t. There. He glanced around, looking for the blonde dirty hair, the hunched figure, and couldn’t find him. He could hear sharp cracks echoing behind him, and realized that there would be no more hunting, no more justice. Peter was gone, and the Aurors were here, and he had killed James and Lily.

And Sirius, with nothing holding him back, laughed. 

* * *

“Remus, we need you to come back. The war is over.” The patronus was disappearing, leaving Remus with no more answers that he had this morning. The werewolf pack he had been infiltrating was scattering - Greyback losing control as he became panicked. Somehow, Voldemort had been defeated. He could go back and see his sister, his brothers, and his nephew.

But instead of rejoice, Remus felt dread. Something was wrong. He reasoned to himself that he was being a pessimist, as usual as Sirius would say. But he couldn’t shake the feeling. He hurried out of the clearing, knowing no one would miss him as the other werewolves ran too. He ventured deep into the forest, found some privacy, and disapparated to Headquarters. 

* * *

Sirius didn’t fight against the Aurors, who quickly took his wand, and bound him tight, not allowing him an inch. He didn’t argue for his defense, only laughed. Only after they locked him up in a small, interrogation room did he start sobbing. Harsh sobs wracked his bent figure. He thought of the hazel eyed boy he met on the train, of the boy that invited Sirius every summer to get away from his crazy relatives. He thought of the pranks the two, along with Remus played every year, on every teacher Hogwarts ever had, for every feast. 

Remus. Sirius groaned, feeling worse. How could he think his dear friend would ever be the traitor. Remus who loved James as much as Sirius did. Remus who saw Lily as his sister, and Harry as his nephew. Kind, loyal Remus who was now alone, believing Sirius had betrayed them, had betrayed him. And he had, didn’t he? It was all his fault. 

When the Aurors came to take him to Azkaban, without a trial, without questioning, Sirius didn’t argue. He followed, silent now, and accepted his just punishment. He took one last look at the sky as he was led away, eyes stuck on the setting sun and rising moon. It would be another twelve years until he saw either again.

* * *

Later, Remus wouldn’t be able to remember the shouting, the snarls, the denials that erupted from his mouth. He wouldn’t remember the apparation to Godric’s Hollow. He wouldn’t remember pushing past the crowd of wizards surrounding his friends’ house. He wouldn’t remember how he bundled both James and Lily close, in their living room, sobbing, then closing their eyes and arranging them so they could be sleeping. He wouldn’t remember Dumbledore summoning Moody or the old Auror taking Remus home, healing the arm he had managed to splinch in his mad dash for the truth. He wouldn’t remember Moody talking to him, or how he left hours later, leaving Remus in the comatose state he’d been since he arrived at Godric’s Hollow. 

From that day on McGonagall, Pomfrey, and Moody would all visit intermittently, trying to bring life back to the lost Marauder. But with his request to see Sirius denied and Dumbledore crushing every hope to adopt Harry, Remus wasn’t living. He was simply surviving. It was a mess of twelve years, filled with drinking and depression, anger and agonization. Twelve years, he endured, stuck in the memories of the past, barely surviving each full moon, until one day he’d wake up on a train, seeing emerald eyes staring back at him. 

* * *

James watched his friends, wishing to ease their pain, but knowing he couldn’t. He watched as they both broke down in their own ways, separated from each other, each without hope. He watched as the traitor got away, and his two friends suffered. He clung to Lily as every full moon passed, and Remus was left skinnier and paler. He held his head in his hands as Bellatrix hurled cruel remark after cruel remark at Sirius, who took it all quietly. 

For twelve years, he watched and suffered along his friends, until a newspaper made it to a lonely Azkaban jail cell and a boy entered a nearly empty train carriage.

**Author's Note:**

> My last piece that I'll post before NaNoWriMo is mostly over. I'll hopefully have a nearly complete AU to give you all then!
> 
> I hope everyone enjoyed this little piece!
> 
> Cross posted on fanfiction.net (RoboTitaness)
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr: Fr0st6yte.tumblr.com


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